


routine

by kemonomimi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Elezen (Final Fantasy XIV), Investment Broker!Estinien, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kemonomimi/pseuds/kemonomimi
Summary: estinien always has his hands full, and though he'd probably never admit to it, he wouldn't want it any other way. aymeric/estinien/haurchefant. commissioned piece.





	routine

**Author's Note:**

> the commission was: i would like to request a small au of estinien from the final fantasy xiv mmorpg in which he is an investments consultant, works 9-5 and is married to aymeric and haurchefant, the scene in particular that I am interested in is his morning routine before work. thank u 4 ur time.
> 
> i hope i delivered well enough :)

He regards the scene before him with lips drawn taut over his teeth into a snarl: hair the color of the first ice on the lake strewn on the pillowcase beside his own, and naked limbs just as haphazardly spread. The duvet is primarily twisted around Haurchefant’s waist and legs, a tangled, useless mess of fabric. Estinien’s brow ticks with irritation — how is it that no matter the precautions taken to avoid the outcome, Haurchefant always manages to monopolize the bulk of the blanket?

With a sigh of temporary surrender, he rolls over to his side to check the clock on the nightstand. The traitorous glowing green clock face tells him it isn't worth trying to wrangle Haurchefant out from the blanket’s hold — Estinien is due to drag his ass out of bed and make his way towards Goad & ManaShare Investments within the hour anyway and it isn’t worth the time and effort attempting to fall back asleep.

The gentle touch to his hair nearly makes him jump out of his skin, though. He hadn’t counted on anyone else being awake. His baleful look is met with sheepishly mirthful blue eyes peeking from a curtain of sleepy dark lashes.

Aymeric has no right looking so perfect even with his hair tousled from sleep and lids heavy from dreams. The sight is enough to give Estinien pause, and the young entrepreneur uses that opportunity to snuggle closer to the deeply asleep Haurchefant, tucking his nose against the crux of ear and jawline. The shift in position makes him closer to Estinien, and makes smoothing his long mane of hair less of a stretch.

With an over-exaggerated sigh, Estinien gives in; Haurchefant’s body is as warm as his smiles and curling around him makes reaching over and settling a hand on Aymeric’s hip to rub smooth, slow circles along the dip of it possible.

When Estinien’s alarm goes off a little while later, it’s clicked off by a startlingly awake Haurchefant, who wakes the man in question by his own means instead. Kisses, liberally applied to the nose and cheeks, are better than any alarm, he insists. Aymeric is woken when the two of them start to veer away from kisses to gentle wrestling, Estinien’s ears tipped pink from too much affection. Aymeric takes his wake up kisses with all the grace of a prince, further flustering Estinien; whether it’s because he can do so without being embarrassed, or because his lovers look so nice together, one may never know. (It’s the latter; it makes him think of the night before, of Aymeric’s hand around his throat as he whines and comes undone, only to open his eyes and see Aymeric, normally so resolute and unbroken, keening prettily and flushed, and Haurchefant’s too-wide smile and warm eyes narrowed like a cat’s because he found the crack’s in Aymeric’s armor —) 

When Estinien surfaces from the bathroom, washed and dressed to face the day, he’s met with a surprise. Haurchefant and Aymeric didn’t stay in bed and get an extra hour or two of sleep. Instead, they made him breakfast; or Aymeric did — Haurchefant made him a cup of hot cocoa to take with him on the train. Aymeric is a great cook, even though he grew up in a home where someone else was paid to take care of those kinds of trivial matters. Haurchefant’s home brew can chase away even the most stubborn chill, and it makes the cold and lonely walk to the train feel a little less daunting.

Nidhogg is the worst kind of boss; his demands are never clearly stated and his expectations are never achievable. Ysayle and Estinien have an unspoken bond over their shitty boss, even if she is technically under Hraesvelgr’s jurisdiction. She’s the closest thing he has to a friend at G&MS Investments, and in another life maybe it would be her home he’d go to at night. Instead, he jerks his head to acknowledge her farewell wave every day and catches the train home, giddy every time because he knows the house isn’t empty unlike the last train out of Ishgard.

Their neighbors are out in the yard this evening, much to Estinien’s chagrin. He’s never been fond of the frat boy-esque group of men living in the house at the bottom of the hill, especially the green-eyed blond that always seems to be surveying Haurchefant closely when they pass by and pause to greet them. Estinien’s seen that expression before, back before he had two hands that reached for his, two pairs of smiles to coax. With a halfhearted grunt when the youngest neighbor, strawberry blond Adelphel, waves he keeps on walking, more determined to finish his trek up the hill and to the warmth that awaits him at home.

It’s only Aymeric at home, curled up on the couch as regal as if it were a throne, and the plush throw blanket his cape. The house lights are still off, his perfect features lit up by the harsh blue light from his laptop. Estinien flipping on the lights seems to break him from his trance and remind him of the time, and that there is other work to be done besides that which involves his career. With an inviting smile, the laptop is set aside and Estinien takes the unspoken invitation to sit beside him, with a cursory glance for their missing third.

“He had a package to deliver to Artoirel.” Aymeric answers without being asked, brows arching with private amusement when Estinien looks mildly incensed at being so easily deciphered.

He sighs and sags against Aymeric instead, restless with their household incomplete. The hand soothing through his hair helps steady the thrum of his heartbeat a little. “Couldn’t he have mailed it?”

“He’ll be back soon.” That’s not an answer to his question, he wants to argue, but the sound of the door opening and shutting a few rooms over alerts him that his anxiety was all for naught. Haurchefant peeks his head in a few moments later and beams, before flopping down on the other side of Estinien and pressing his cold hands to the pale sliver of skin peeking out from between strands of silver. Naturally his efforts are repaid in full with a sharp jab to the ribs.

Haurchefant’s attempts to subject Aymeric to his cold hands just result in his hands being gathered up for kisses to warm them, and Estinien suffers the brute of the fluttering embarrassment as he tries to come to terms with the fact his lovers can do something so ridiculously cheesy with no ill effects on their conscience.

“Are you quite all right, Estinien? You’re looking rather flushed.” He shoots Aymeric a suspicious, accusatory look, and regrets it; the brunet has escalated from kissing long, dexterous fingers to licking the length of them. Mischief curls the corner of his lip, but his eyes are wide, and doe-like.

“Did the sudden shift in temperature expose a fever?” Haurchefant’s voice is too close, suddenly. He punctuates his question with a kiss to Estinien’s temple, over his fringe, while his arm curls around his waist and hovers there, waiting. 

He rolls his eyes at the both of them. With a tug he pulls Haurchefant’s arm tighter around his waist and reaches for Aymeric’s jaw, unsurprised when he meets him halfway for an open-mouthed kiss; nor is he unsurprised to feel Haurchefant’s mouth along the curve of his throat, following the trail of red color that rises beneath the skin. “You’re both prettier with your mouths shut, you know,” Estinien finally manages, but it only makes Aymeric and Haurchefant both chuckle and nuzzle more kisses against his skin.

Hardly an unusual ending to an unusual day, but Estinien hopes the future holds more days like these for the three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> somehow i ended up building this little world around this request ahhh,, maybe one to revisit at another time. maybe we'll pop in on those frat boy neighbors at the bottom of the hill sometime, eh? ;) i've heard they're good company.
> 
> if you have some sort of niche request or ship that someone is just not filling, feel free to send me inquiries at heavenlyaxis on twitter. i accept commissions through kofi, and its always best to ask first if you're uncertain!


End file.
